Chương 53: Empty Plinths

Joel jerked awake, smashing his face into the pew's back. Maintaining the wherewithal to not curse loudly, he cupped his hands against his sore nose and forehead. After all, it had to be bad luck to curse in a church. Lightning flashed splashes of vivid colors from the lone stained glass window, which rattled from the rain. When he tried to turn his back against the noise, the following thunder cracked any leftover sleep out of him. He rolled to face the chapel's rafters instead.

Candlelight danced upon the wooden beams to the soft snores of his companions. It had been a bad dream that he'd startled awake from — made worse from the fact that he didn't have an inkling of what the nightmare had been, only the lingering relief for waking up. He pulled his blanket off to sit up, stretching the kinks out of his neck. Al had been right about sleeping in pews; they were a special sort of uncomfortable. He stifled a yawn as he realized he wasn't the only one awake.

Siv was praying at the far end of the dimly lit chapel. The half-elf was kneeling in front of an altar where four empty plinths sat. That didn't stop Siv from praying. His hands, clasped around his amulet, glowed with silver light as the rain slowed. The chapel was compact enough that even Siv's mumbled prayer could be heard.

"... please lend your guiding light to those missing villagers. I pray that you bless them with your grace and protection so they may find your silver path and come safely back home." Siv was praying fervently into his cupped hands. His eye was closed and his face was scrunched with concern.

"Lastly, I pray for each of us to be granted your wisdom," he continued.

"Alis, Al, and our new good friend, Joel. Please give us the strength to not wander from your light, my Lady." Joel felt his face going red due to the heartwarming feeling of being thought after and at the shame for eavesdropping on what sounded so personal. Despite being wide awake, he tried to gently lean back down. The old pew betrayed him with an astonishing creak, louder than the thunder outside, that made him freeze. The others, who were yet asleep, groaned with annoyance, shuffling in their pews.

Meanwhile, Siv had turned from his prayer and caught Joel sitting up. Despite the apologetic face Joel gave, the half-elf simply smiled and waved him over to the front of the altar. Joel didn't see why not. He wasn't going to get anymore sleep soon. Getting up slowly to avoid any more thunderous creaks, he tip-toed past the other rows of pews to join Siv, who was now sitting much more comfortably cross-legged.

"Can't sleep?" the half-elf asked in a hushed whisper. Joel shook his head and sat on the floor next to Siv.

"Not much. You get any shut eye?"

"Briefly, but then I couldn't fall back asleep so I thought I'd take the time to pray."

"We're in a chapel so there's no better spot to do that." Joel motioned over to the four plinths upon the altar.

"Is there supposed to be something there?"

"Usually a statue or symbol of the Tetrarchy would be there. I couldn't find any, but they are rarer in more humble villages."

"The Tetrarchy…?" When Joel saw the surprise on Siv's face, he tapped at the side of his head.

"Everything's still a little hazy." There was a notable pause from Siv that made Joel second-guess whether the half-elf believed him.

"You might've heard of it being called the Fourfold Faith. The Church of the Tetrarchy is the dominant religion here within the successor realms."

"Successor realms?" Joel asked, thinking back to the places Gathin had mentioned.

"Lorent, Rhostan, and Yullia?" Siv smiled and nodded.

"Perhaps your memory is returning after all."

"Maybe," Joel said, hoping the dim light would cover his weak smile.

"So this church believes in your… Lady?"

"She is one of the Tetrarchy, yes."

"You seem really…" Joel wasn't sure what the right word exactly was.

"Pious? I mean I don't see the others ever really praying." He paused to think.

"I guess they say a word of grace before eating."

"A habit from our upbringing. Al used to be fairly devout himself. He always told me it made him feel closer to his mother. It's originally why I became so involved in the faith in my younger years." Siv ran a thumb across the front of his silver amulet.

"I never knew my own mother. If you pressed me, I wouldn't even be able to tell you if my eyes and ears came from her. She's become a fog, a motherly haze." His eye returned to the altar in front of them, but was clearly searching for something beyond that.

"I… think I know what you mean," Joel said softly.

"I can't really remember my mom either. She's a blur for me."

"I'm sorry. It was tactless of me to speak of this."

"No, no," Joel replied.

"It's just a weird feeling, suddenly being alone." Of course, it was more than that. His mom, his family, his life. There was nothing here from home, from his home. A gutting, hollow feeling bubbled up within him until he felt Siv squeeze on his shoulder.

"You're not alone anymore." Siv gave Joel's back a small pat.

"You're with friends." Joel flushed with an abashed shake of his head.

"Sometimes it feels like I don't deserve you guys." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Now there's a feeling I'm well-acquainted with. Something else I learned during my time in the church, sometimes it isn't about deserves." Siv blinked at him, though Joel suspected it was meant to be a wink for his newly eye-patched friend.

"Though, if you ask me, you earned our friendship several times over." That made Joel smile.

"So you worked in the Church of the Tetrarchy?"

"Yes, I briefly served within the clergy as an acolyte. It was before I joined the League."

"Do you miss it?" The rain started to pitter-patter against the glass window once more. Siv ran a hand through his brown hair, taking a moment to think.

"Sometimes I do. In a strange way, life felt both simpler and more complicated. I like to think I learned a lot during my time with the church. I had fond memories there."

"Then we've got to find those statues." Joel tilted his head back at the bare plinths.

"Are you certain the priest here doesn't have them around? Feels like a waste, being in a chapel and all." His gaze caught the nearby back door.

"He might've kept the divines in there."

"It didn't feel right to snoop too much."

"Oh, come on," Joel said, getting up slowly to not wake the others.

"It's not like we plan to steal anything. We'll put it back once we're done. Doesn't it make the prayer more special or something?"

"Not necessarily," Siv chuckled awkwardly.

"Though I suppose another look around wouldn't hurt." They gently crept to the old door, the floor board groaning under their steps. Thankfully, it didn't interrupt the snoring of the other two. The door's wooden planks were mishmashed enough to see between its gaps, though the angle and dim light made it unclear what was inside. It couldn't have been larger than a pantry. The door had a keyhole but Joel tried the handle first.

Creaking, it resisted his push loud enough to make both of them check over their shoulders. Al was wrapped under his blanket, chest rising and falling. Meanwhile, Alis had kicked off her blanket and sprawled her limbs wildly, as if the cool chapel was too hot for her. Neither stirred.

"Locked. That's too bad," Siv said while looking at the door's keyhole. Joel wasn't so sure that was the case. If anything, he remembered what a locked door felt like, considering his main class used to be the old Thief class. It was the give that the door allowed, just too much for a locked door. Grabbing the handle again, he pressed his shoulder into the door while lifting slightly. He increased the pressure incrementally, worried that it would suddenly open and he'd trip inside.

With a wailing groan, the door popped open. Joel pulled the door back to a stop, cringing at the sound it made. He was beginning to regret being so forward about finding these statues. As he'd predicted, it was a small storeroom, barely enough space for the two of them to stand in. Half-full bookshelves that lined the walls further crowded them. Cobwebs swayed to their movement and their steps kicked up dust. Joel looked around. There wasn't a statue anywhere.

"Just books…" he muttered. Siv was still searching around.

"It's likely that the priest is one of the few villagers who can read." His amulet glowed, illuminating the room in a soft, silver light. He dropped to a knee, checking the lower shelf. Joel peeked at the upper book shelves, spotting worn tomes.

"What do the statues look like?"

"Usually, they are made from clay or porcelain, if it could be afforded. Rarely larger than a candle."

"I don't think anything like that is here." Joel sneezed into the inside of his shirt.

"Wait," Siv said, running his hands across the wooden floor.

"The boards here are scuffed up. Sometimes wealthier folk have little nooks installed, though this one's more homemade." Taking out his dagger, he wedged the blade between the boards and lifted a small plank up.

"Huh." The hidey hole was something Joel would've never noticed. Siv reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a ceramic shard. A puzzled look crossed his face as he tossed it aside.

"What… why would it be like this…?" Joel peeked over the Freewalker's shoulder. In the small hideaway, several similar shattered pieces lay strewn. Underneath some of the sharp mess, a leatherbound book sat nested. Siv picked up the fragments carefully, setting them to the side, before picking up the tome. Unravelling the book's cord, he rose to his feet and flipped through the pages. The half-elf's soft features tightened as he read. Squatting down, Joel lifted one of the ceramic pieces to examine it properly.

It was a miniature pair of hands clasped in prayer, smashed off at the wrist. He looked back at the pile of similar smashed pottery and it dawned upon him what Siv had already realized. These were the statues that were supposed to occupy the chapel's empty pedestals.

"I'm guessing this isn't normal?" he asked, combing through the broken pieces. Siv shook his head, but didn't respond otherwise, too focused on flipping through the book.

"Maybe the priest fell while putting them away?" Joel asked optimistically.

"It might explain why he's gone. To go get new ones or something." That sounded sensible enough to him. This time, the former acolyte didn't even respond, his blue eye still scanning. He appeared completely immersed in whatever was written there. Joel rose to his feet.

"What is that? A hymnbook or something?"

"The Meditations of Saint Pyrr. A liturgical text of the faith." The pages were turned even more quickly.

"Those were words."

"You aren't far off with a hymnbook, though this is more like a set of proverbs." Siv's face tensed further with every page turn.

"Okay, what's wrong? You look like you've been stabbed." Joel got to his feet, craning his head to look at the book. The book had been vandalized. Neat lines of stylized writing had been washed over in faded brown stains; barely legible scrawls and frantic scribbles covered each page. Old blood. Joel was familiar with the color after his battle with the yeti.

"What the hell is that?" he asked with a grimace.

"Sacrilege…" Siv said solemnly.

"This is something no one of faith would willingly do." He paused where the words 'False Gods' had been splattered across two pages diagonally.

"Some of these writings are older than the others." As if proving his point, some pages stuck to one another, dried blood acting as the glue. Siv gently spread them apart, trying to make out whatever was written.

"This Father Bernard seems to have gone mad."

"The priest? That's his name?" Joel yawned.

"It's what is etched on the inside of the cover." Joel was beginning to pick up on how sharp and perceptive Siv was, especially while being disturbed by the contents of the page.

"Okay, so this Bernard, Father Bernard, whatever, went crazy?"

"Perhaps. It'll take me some time to parse through these ramblings."

"Need any help?" Siv shook his head.

"Get some rest. No point in both of us being tired. If there's trouble, we'll inform the elder or those knights." He paused, clutching at his amulet and looking at the smashed statues.

"Elsewise, we'll handle it."